The beach is empt
y. It’s not unreasonable.
Most are incognizant of the small sliver of land
But not you.
Few would venture out
When the winds forbidding wail
Screams louder than that of the sea
But you find solace in it.
Convergence of sand and salt
Palette of faded colors overlapped
Surf echoing against land
No gulls pay visit to mourn
As you do.
Sky of stone, clouds of smoke
Ankles sore, your feet sunken
It’s far too cold
for a proper beach.
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